A new scar
by notsure2010
Summary: How Jane and Maura's relationship is changed by the events of the finale.
1. Chapter 1

Maura Isles sat in a blue plastic chair, staring straight ahead with an unreadable expression on her face. With her back perfectly straight, her ankles crossed, and her hands resting in her lap, she looked as though she might be waiting for a maître'd to usher her to an ocean-view table or for a spa attendant to lead her into the salon for a lavender salt body scrub followed by a seaweed wrap.

Except for the fact that her dress was covered in blood. Jane's blood.

When she and her colleagues, detectives Frost and Korsak, arrived at the hospital just minutes behind Jane's ambulance, Maura had caught a glimpse of herself, reflected in the sliding glass doors of the ER waiting room, and realized that Jane's blood was splattered all over her dress, her arms and hands, even her knees, where she had knelt beside Jane trying desperately to keep her from bleeding out on the sidewalk in front of the police station.

As a medical examiner, Maura was used to the sight of blood—but only on her gloves and her scrubs. Not on her own clothes, not on her own skin. Not Jane's blood. Probably some of it was Jane's brother's blood too—Frankie had been the first one injured and Maura had been forced to put a tube in his chest to try to keep him alive. She excused herself and went to the restroom and furiously scrubbed herself until every inch of her exposed skin was clean and raw.

There was nothing to be done about the dress though. She wished she could take it off and put something else on, especially once Jane's parents arrived and broke down into fresh tears at the sight of the stains, but she didn't want to leave the hospital before she knew that Jane was going to be all right. So she sat on the blue plastic chair, thinking about nothing except the blood drying and crusty on the fabric of her dress.

And the horrifying image of Jane shooting herself in the abdomen, trying to end a standoff with the dirty cop who was holding her hostage.

* * *

It had only been twelve hours since Maura's hand had caressed the silky smooth skin of that abdomen, feeling the muscles tighten and then relax, stretch and contract as Jane turned in bed from her back to her side and then pulled Maura close to her, kissing Maura's neck as she awoke from a deep sleep.

Now Jane would have a scar there, forever marring the perfect lines of her stomach. First a gaping bullet hole, then an angry, jagged red welt, and finally a pebbled lump of scar tissue that she would want to hide from everyone, just like the scars she already had on her neck and hands. Would Maura ever be able to touch her there again?

She wished that she hadn't waited so long to touch Jane in the first place.

It had been Maura's discovery that her birth father was the infamous mob boss Patrick Doyle that finally brought the two women together. In an attempt to protect her, Doyle had kidnapped Maura, and Jane had been powerless to stop it. For just over an hour Maura was out of reach, out of contact, and it had been the longest hour of Jane's life. After Maura was safely returned and the case wrapped up, Jane had become her friend's shadow, seemingly unable to relax or concentrate on anything unless she was in Maura's presence.

For two weeks they spent every night together. That first night Maura had asked Jane to stay with her out of fear, but after that neither woman bothered to make any excuses for sharing the same bed. They just did it, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. They began to develop a sleeping routine, like an old married couple. Jane got in bed first, since Maura's nightly beauty regimen took just a bit more time than it took Jane to pull on a t-shirt and sleep shorts. When Maura was ready, clad in her silk pajamas and smelling like peaches, she simply got into bed and snuggled up to Jane, front to back, like two spoons in a drawer. After awhile, if Jane didn't fall asleep, they would both turn over and Jane would wrap her long arms around Maura, curling her fingers into the silk pajamas and breathing in the intoxicating scent of the top of Maura's head.

Then, one night, when she felt Jane beginning to turn over, Maura didn't move. She just stayed where she was and kept her arm around Jane's waist, looking into her friend's eyes and feeling her breath on her face. Jane pulled her closer, curling her hands into Maura's pajamas as usual, but also entwining their legs together. Maura buried her face in Jane's neck and wondered if she was hearing her own heart pounding, or if it was Jane's.

"Maura," whispered Jane, her voice cracking just a bit, as though her throat were dry.

"Hmm?" answered Maura, shifting her head a bit so that her lips were not pressing directly into Jane's pulse point.

"Can I hold you like this forever, please?"

"Okay, Jane. That sounds wonderful to me."

"G'night Maura."

"Good night Jane."

The next night, Jane waited to get into bed until Maura was ready. Then, instead of turning away so that Maura could spoon her, she immediately pulled her friend into her arms and began kissing her. Maura responded softly, but eagerly, and felt Jane begin to melt in her arms the moment she opened her mouth and slid her tongue along Jane's lower lip.

"You're so soft, Maura. I've never felt anything this soft before." Jane began to explore Maura's face with her lips and the tip of her nose while Maura breathed deeply and enjoyed the sensations.

"Jane, have you ever done this before?"

"Done what before?"

"This!" Maura kissed Jane soundly on the mouth, with enough force to push Jane back on the pillow and make her moan deeply in the back of her throat.

"With a woman, I mean," added Maura when she broke the kiss and leaned away.

Jane tensed up a bit, and avoided eye contact. "No. Have you?"

"No, but I've thought about it."

"Thought about it with me, or with other women?"

"Both."

"Oh."

"Jane, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, Maura. Let's just go to sleep, okay?" Jane smiled at Maura, kissed her lightly on the mouth, and turned over. Maura snuggled up to her as usual, but it took her a long time to fall asleep, realizing just how skittish Jane was about this relationship.

The next morning Jane kissed her again though, just as they were leaving to go to work. And then again in her office when they were alone. So that night when Maura came out of the bathroom smelling of peaches, she neglected to do up the buttons on her pajama top.

Jane couldn't help but notice the long line of flesh—Maura's perfect, golden flesh—that was now visible, snaking from her neck through the curves of her breasts to her stomach and navel. She grinned as Maura self-consciously gripped the edges of the fabric together while getting into bed—as if she didn't expect Jane to remove the top altogether just as soon as she could.

And she did.

An hour later, both women were again snuggled up together, enjoying the sensation of bare skin on bare skin. As they had been exploring each other's breasts, arms, and stomachs, Maura slipped her hand between the waistband of Jane's panties, resting it on the curve at the small of her back, and once again Jane had tensed up.

"Jane, it's okay." Maura moved her hand back up a few inches.

"I know, it's fine. Let's just go to sleep though, okay?"

Maura kissed Jane and then turned over. Jane snaked her hand around Maura's waist, but since there was no fabric there to hold on to, Maura took Jane's hand and moved it up so that it was covering her breast. She felt Jane smile, and giggle into her shoulder.

_It's okay, Jane_," thought Maura. _I'll be patient. We have lots of time. All the time in the world_.

* * *

By the time the surgeon came out to update them on Jane's condition, Maura felt stiff, sore, and numb, but she listened intently to what the doctor had to say.

"Jane's awake now, but we haven't extubated her because we aren't sure if she can breathe on her own yet. There's also a chance we'll have to go back in if we didn't stop all of the bleeding. The damage was extensive, but I think we were able to repair most of it."

Angela Rizzoli sobbed with relief and then immediately began peppering the doctor with questions. "Can we see her now? And did you tell her that Frankie is going to be okay?"

"Yes, we told her that Frankie had come through his surgery just fine, thanks to the emergency measures performed by someone in the field."

Korsak put his arm around Maura. "That was the work of Dr. Isles here, our chief medical examiner."

"Oh, I see. Jane was quite agitated when she first came out of the anesthesia and since she can't talk while intubated we had her write out her questions. She asked first about Frankie, and then just wrote 'Isles ok.' We didn't understand what she meant. Well, I'm guessing she'll want to see you soon, Dr. Isles, but let's have just Mr. and Mrs. Rizzoli first, okay? We actually wanted to put her out again because of the discomfort of the intubation, but she insisted on seeing everyone."

Jane hated the feeling of having a tube down her throat, and being unable to talk. She hated that worse than the pain radiating from her abdomen. But she tried to pull it together for her parents. Despite her best efforts, she felt tears streaming down her face as her daddy took her hand and her mother kissed her cheek. The visit was brief—her mother barely had time to recover her voice enough to thank her daughter for saving Frankie's life before the nurses led her away.

Jane closed her eyes with pain and exhaustion after they left. When she opened them again, Maura was standing in front of her, flanked by Frost and Korsak. They all looked tired and worried, but Maura—

Maura barely looked like herself. Her skin was pale, her hair was limp and flat. Although her dress was red, the blood that had dried on it was much darker than the fabric and the stain seemed to scream out in reproach at Jane. Maura folded her arms in front of the stain, gripping her torso while tears spilled out of her eyes. Her eyes—even Jane, in her heavily-medicated state—could see that her eyes were filled not just with concern and fear, but anger. A kind of anger that Jane had never seen before.

Frost and Korsak tried to make small talk, but since Jane couldn't talk and Maura was silent, they quickly gave up. Korsak patted Jane on the hand and made a light-hearted joke, telling his former partner that he expected to see her back at work within forty-eight hours, and then said, "Come on, doc, let's get out of here so she can rest."

"No," said Maura, in a tone that left no room for questioning. "I need to talk to Jane. I'll be out in a minute."

Frost and Korsak beat a hasty retreat, and Maura took a step closer to the bed.

"Why did you do it, Jane? Why did you have to shoot yourself?" Maura saw remorse and panic in Jane's eyes but kept going. "Don't you know that there are people that care about you? That _I_ care about you? Why do you have to do this all the time? Why do you have to play the hero? When are you going to grow up and stop this?"

Maura never raised her voice, but her tone was so fierce that Jane felt as though she had been slapped.

Then Maura crumpled. She put her face in her hands and sobbed until the nurse came back into the room. Then Maura straightened up, took Jane's hand and whispered, "I'm sorry, Jane." She tried to smile through her tears. "I'll come and see you again soon, okay?" Then she stood and walked shakily out of the room.

Jane watched Maura walk away through tear-blurred eyes. _I did this to her_, she thought. _I made her look like that, talk like that, feel like that. I can't . . ._

Then the nurse put something into her IV and the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For three days after she shot herself, Jane Rizzoli was in critical condition. So critical, in fact, that the doctors in charge of her care insisted that only family members be allowed to visit her. Frank and Angela thus took turns sitting by the bedsides of their son and daughter, while Maura went back to work. There were autopsies to do, tests to be conducted, and forms to fill out, and while the work kept Maura's mind occupied, worries about Jane filled her heart. Angela called the department at least three times a day with updates on Jane's condition, and Frost and Korsak relayed the messages to Maura, but it was agonizing not to be able to be there tending to Jane herself.

She hated herself for what she had said to Jane. _Who stands sat the bedside of a person who risked her own life to save others and tells them to grow up and stop playing the hero_, she thought to herself, over and over again. _I don't deserve her_. Maura knew that she had acted out of fear and exhaustion—there were dozens of studies done on the human emotional response to trauma that would certainly explain and even justify her behavior—but none of that mattered since she could never take those horrible words back. Her only hope was that Jane wouldn't remember.

But Jane did remember. When she was finally extubated and allowed to remain conscious, the image of Maura shaking with anger, berating her for her actions, swam in the front of her mind over and over again.

The worst part was, she knew that Maura was right.

As the only woman in the Boston homicide department, Jane always felt different and inferior—on every case, sometimes every day. In her mind, all of the other detectives—except maybe Frost and Korsak—saw her as the weak link, the one who might fail simply because she was a woman. The physical requirements of her job were substantial and while she did her best to stay in shape she knew that it would never be enough. Everyone in the department knew what had happened to her with serial killer Charles Hoyt—how he had overpowered her and skewered her to the ground with scalpels in her palms. She hadn't been strong enough to stop him, and then he became obsessed with her, killing other women just to make her afraid. Taunting her with threats of sadistic rape and violence. How different would the case have been if she hadn't been a woman? She didn't know it for certain, but she imagined that her colleagues whispered about her behind her back, and perhaps wished that the rule banning women from the homicide division had never been lifted.

Jane didn't let these feelings of inadequacy keep her from doing her job, however. In fact, they only drove her to push herself further. She worked and lived every day as if she had something to prove, and as if she would spend the rest of her career in search of unconditional, ungendered acceptance.

So when Bobby, that bastard dirty cop who got everyone into this mess, tried to use her as a human shield in order to escape custody, she struggled against the vice-like grip he had around her neck and shoulders with everything she had. But she wasn't strong enough. She could see the line of police officers—her friends, her colleagues—all pointing their guns at her, desperately looking for a way out of a seemingly unwinnable hostage situation.

And she was the hostage, again.

So there was no question what she had to do. She screamed at the officers to shoot him, in blatant disregard for her own safety. Then she realized that if she were the one pointing the gun at Bobby, with some other woman as the hostage, she would never take the shot. He had too tight of a grip on her, it was too risky. She knew no one would do it.

She knew she had to do it herself. A shot through the abdomen, angled just right so that the bullet would exit her back and enter Bobby's chest, taking him out. Then there would be enough time to get Frankie out of the building and save his life.

In the mental calculations she made in those few terrifying seconds, as she made the decision to sacrifice herself for her brother and for her colleagues, she never once thought of Maura. Not until she pulled the trigger, fell, and saw a flash of red fabric and light brown hair running towards her. Only then did she remember that she had something new, something deep, and something wonderful to live for.

Lying in her hospital bed with nothing to do but think and worry, she replayed those scenes again and again in her mind, and her lack of concern for Maura at one of the most critical moments of her life haunted her more than anything else. She knew she loved Maura—loved her more than she had loved any boyfriend, or any other friend she had ever had. But apparently that love had not been enough to keep her from destroying herself.

She had said it before, many times—to her mother, to her friends, and to her colleagues, when they asked her why she didn't want to get married: _Any man I could love wouldn't want me doing this job. And I love this job._ As many times as she had said it, in her heart she had always believed that one day there would be someone whom she would love more than her job, and who would love her enough to accept without question the path she had chosen to follow in her life.

But now she knew it wasn't true. She would always put her job first. And that meant losing Maura.

* * *

"Jane, honey, look who's here to see you—it's Dr. Isles! The doctors finally say that it's okay for you to have visitors. Angela Rizzoli gently patted her daughter on the arm until she opened her eyes and looked around the room.

"Maura. It's good to see you," said Jane, rubbing her eyes so as to avoid looking into Maura's. "Ma said you sent flowers—thank you."

"She did much more than that, Jane! She kept you from dying out there! She was covered in your blood, Jane, your blood!" Angela started tearing up, so Maura gave the woman a hug and said, gently, "It's okay, Mrs. Rizzoli. Let's not talk about that right now."

Maura put on a bright face and turned towards her friend. "How are you feeling, Jane? I spoke with the doctor and he said that your prognosis is excellent, considering what happened. Are you in a lot of pain? I'm not sure if the doctor told you, but there are several alternate forms of pain management besides pharmaceuticals that we could try."

Maura took Jane's hand and sat by the bed, hoping that Jane would look at her, but regretted it when Jane finally turned toward her she looked into those deep brown eyes. Jane didn't say anything, and her gaze was distant and distracted. Maura wondered if it was the medication, or something else. She tenderly stroked Jane's forehead and cheek before lightly twining her fingers in the dark brown curls behind her ear.

Angela noticed something wasn't quite right with her daughter, too. "Are you okay, Jane? Aren't you happy to see Maura?"

Jane's eyes snapped back into focus and she looked at her mother. "I'm fine, ma, I'm just kind of tired and I think it's about time for another dose of pain meds. Could you go and ask the nurse?"

As soon as the door closed behind Angela, Jane looked at Maura and whispered, "Did you tell anyone anything? About us, I mean? About what's—about what was going on with us, before this happened?"

Maura withdrew her hand from Jane's face and suddenly felt very cold.

"Of course not. That's not my place. If I had, they probably would have let me in to see you sooner though."

Jane exhaled with relief. If she knew that Maura had intended her last remark to be cutting, she didn't let on. "Oh, good. Please don't say anything, okay? This is all just too much; I don't want anyone to know . . . what happened."

"What do you mean, 'what happened'? You say that as though our relationship is just an incident, a fling." She paused briefly before adding, softly, "A mistake."

Jane was immediately defensive. "Maura, don't make a big deal out of it! It's not like we—

"It's not like we what, Jane—had sex? We were close enough, you know."

"I know—God, Maura, don't you think I know that?"

"I don't know. I don't know what you think. I never know what you think, because you never tell me. You just wrap me in your arms and say that you want to hold me there forever, and then you shoot yourself and try to pretend like nothing happened. Try to pretend that you didn't whisper 'I love you' into my neck every night before you went to sleep—"

"Dammit Jane, I'm in love with you! And I know you know that . . . and I don't understand—"

Maura cut herself off, recognizing that she had let her emotions run away with her. "I swore I wasn't going to do this again, I'm so sorry, Jane." She saw tears welling up in the other woman's eyes, and she feared she might break down into sobs herself at any moment. After a few moments of silence, she mastered herself and decided it was time to just give in and stop arguing for the time being.

"Don't worry, Jane, I won't say anything. As far as anyone knows, we're just colleagues and friends."

Jane closed her eyes. "Would you mind going and seeing what's keeping my mother?"

Maura stood up. "Yes, and I'll talk to the doctor again about pain management, if that's okay."

"Sure, that'd be great." Jane didn't open her eyes.

Maura stopped just before she was about to open the door and step out into the hall. She turned around and said, in a low voice, "Jane, I'm really sorry about what I said . . . before. About you playing the hero? I didn't mean it and I feel awful about it."

"I know you didn't mean it. But that doesn't mean I didn't deserve it." Jane's eyes were open now, but she refused to meet Maura's gaze. "You were right, and I'm sorry."

"Jane—"

"Just get my mother, please?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles_.

Chapter 3

Jane was so frustrated with her mother that for a moment she wished she could climb back into her hospital bed and ask the nurse for more of that wonderful knockout medicine.

But then she remembered that she was just minutes away from leaving the hospital for good, and hours away from spending the night in her own bed, and she found the energy to continue the argument.

"Ma, I'm fine."

"Jane, be reasonable! You've been in the hospital for two weeks—"

"And the doctors say that I'm fine to go home!"

"But you shouldn't go home alone, Jane! You need someone to take care of you—how many times do I have to explain it to you? Please come and stay with your father and me at home. I cannot stand the thought of you alone."

"What? I've lived alone since I joined the force twelve years ago—it's just bothering you now?"

"Don't be silly, Jane, how can you think that things wouldn't be different now?" Angela decided to try a different tactic, although her arguments were nothing if not familiar to Jane. "If you had a husband, Jane, or even just a boyfriend, this would be so much easier—"

"We are not going to do this now, ma!" Jane raised her voice despite the pain it caused in her abdomen. "Do you really think this would be easier if I had a husband, or kids? It would be _harder—_alot harder."

"What do you mean by that? It's hard to have people who love you?"

"Ma. Please." Jane lowered her voice and tried again to be the voice of reason. "I have a nurse on call. I can walk fine, I can feed myself, and I'm hardly taking any pain meds. You have to let me do this on my own."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn? You shouldn't _have_ to do this on your own! I cannot—I will not—let my baby daughter go home to an empty house with a bullet hole in her stomach—" Angela seemed to have found a second wind, and was gearing up for round two, when the door to the hospital room opened.

"It's okay, Angela. I'll go with her and make sure she's okay."

Jane felt a sudden rush of blood that made her feel lightheaded—it was Maura's voice coming from the doorway.

_Maura's here_. She couldn't believe the profound relief she felt. She turned toward her friend, hoping that somehow she could convey her feelings just by looking her in the eyes.

_Please, take me home._

Despite the act she was putting on for her mother, Jane felt horribly tired and run down. Two weeks in a hospital room recovering from a gunshot wound had been bad enough, but fighting with Maura had been worse. They had hardly spoken in the last two weeks, and nothing had been resolved between them, but at the moment nothing sounded better than letting Maura take her home. Jane felt every wall that she had tried to put up around her heart come crashing down in that instant.

"Maura, are you sure? Are you sure she'll be okay by herself?" Angela trusted the doctor, and just like Jane she felt relieved at her presence. This was a compromise that would allow both mother and daughter to feel as though they had won the argument.

"I've spoken with Jane's doctor myself, and he believes that she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself—as long as she doesn't try to overdo it." Maura narrowed her eyes and gave Jane a piercing look.

Jane caught Maura's eye and quickly interjected. "I promise I won't overdo it. I'll sit on the couch and watch TV. I'll meditate. I'll read really boring books until I fall asleep."

Angela laughed at the pitiful look that her daughter gave her as she begged for her freedom, and finally gave in. "Okay, okay. But I'm coming over every day to check on you. Twice a day, even." She kissed Jane, asked again if Maura was sure she didn't mind driving Jane home, and finally headed out the door.

Leaving Jane and Maura alone in the room. It was the first time they had been alone in over a week.

Maura was immediately all business. She began looking around the room, checking to see if Jane had left anything behind, reading the labels on the medication bottles, clearing away little bits of garbage that had been left out here and there.

Jane sat on the bed and watched her, drinking in the sight of her. Maura looked perfect—nothing like the pale, angry creature she remembered from the first days of her recovery. This was the Maura that she had fallen in love with.

_Maybe everything is going to be okay_, she thought.

* * *

Even with Maura helping her every step of the way, the hour it took to get from the hospital to her living room couch was absolutely exhausting for Jane but she did her best not to let on. Even the slightest unexpected movement—a bump in the road, a misstep, stretching to pull the handle of the car door toward her—caused waves of pain to radiate through her abdomen. But once she finally made it to the couch and collapsed in her usual spot, she felt a tremendous sense of relief.

"I never thought I would say that I loved a couch, but after that damn hospital bed this feels like heaven." She stretched out on her uninjured side and closed her eyes while Maura bent down to take off her shoes.

"I never understood how you could relax with your shoes on, Jane. Plus you're getting dirt all over the couch." Jane ignored her remark, but suddenly opened her eyes.

"Maura, have you been here in the apartment recently?"

Maura looked a bit embarrassed, but knew that she couldn't get away with lying to Jane.

"Yes, I came over this morning to get things ready for you to come home. I bought a few groceries and things that I thought you might need. I still have a key . . . from before. I hope that's okay." She avoided meeting Jane's gaze. "I'll give you the key back before I leave, if you want."

"Of course it's okay, and you can keep the key." Jane paused for a brief moment before squinting up at Maura again.

"How did you even know that I was getting out of the hospital today? Did my mother call you?"

Again, Maura looked somewhat guilty. "No, I . . . I bribed the nurses to call me when the doctors were ready to discharge you. It turns out that nurse Haverchek really likes those little cheesecakes from Edie's bakery down the street—"

"But I wasn't supposed to be discharged until five or so, and you got to the hospital at what, one-thirty?"

"I also told the nurses to call me if you ever got into a shouting match with your mother . . . I figured it was bound to happen sooner or later, and I thought you might need some back up."

Jane grinned. "You know me too well, Maura." She paused, closed her eyes again, and breathed deeply. "I'm going to take a nap now, if that's okay."

"Of course, sleep as long as you like. I'm going to run back to work for a couple of hours, but I'll come back with some dinner for you soon, if you'd like me to."

Jane opened her eyes and looked at Maura, hoping for the second time that day that somehow Maura would know what she meant just from the expression on her face.

"I would love for you to come back. Soon. With or without dinner."

Maura couldn't help but brush her hand across Jane's face, just briefly, and she was happy to see that Jane didn't shy away from her touch. "Okay, I'll be back soon," she said softly. She headed for the door but stopped when she remembered something.

"Wait, how did you know I had been here? Is something out of place?"

Jane smiled, but didn't open her eyes. "No, but the couch pillow smells like peaches. Just like you."

* * *

Jane woke up from her nap with a start. She was breathing heavily and felt panicked. The smell of peaches was long gone.

She had been dreaming again. The same dream she had been having for two weeks. The dream where Bobby had her by the throat with a gun pressed to her stomach. In the dream she managed to wrestle the gun away from him somehow—only to pick it up and aim it at a woman in a red dress who was standing in front of her. She always woke up right after she squeezed the trigger and realized that the woman in the red dress was Maura.

It was a horrible, horrible dream—especially since she knew exactly what it meant, and exactly what she had to do.

_I have to tell Maura the truth_.

Then she rationalized.

_But not right now_.

After a few moments, she shook off the lingering feelings of guilt and unease and sat up on the couch. Maura had left her pain meds on the counter, and after she had made her way into the kitchen and swallowed them down with a glass of water and some sort of organic granola bar she found in the cupboard, she decided it was time for a shower.

When Maura let herself in 45 minutes later, Jane was nowhere to be seen. She walked back to the bedroom and called out, once she saw that the bed was empty and the bathroom door closed.

"Jane? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

"Maura? Is that you? I need help, Maura." Jane's voice sounded small and thin.

Maura opened the door, her heart pounding, afraid of what she might find. She couldn't recall ever hearing Jane ask for help before.

Jane was sitting on the tile floor of the shower, covered only with a towel. She took one look at Maura and burst into tears.

In short sentences punctuated by sobs, Jane explained her situation. "I tried to take a shower . . . but I couldn't do it. I couldn't even get my shirt off, I couldn't raise my arms—" She tilted her head toward the sink where Maura saw the torn remains of a blue t-shirt and a pair of scissors. "The nurse helped me get it on this morning but I couldn't get it off—"

"And then, once I got in the shower, I couldn't really wash my hair . . . I got the shampoo in, but then it hurt too much to rinse it out, so I thought maybe if I sat down it would be easier—"

"But now I can't get up, and everything hurts, and I'm such an idiot . . ." She buried her face in the towel.

Maura knelt down next to Jane and wrapped her arms around her. "It's okay, Jane, it's okay. You should have waited for me, I would have helped you. You promised not to overdo it!"

"I should be able to do something as simple as take a shower! I didn't need your help!" Old habits die hard, and Jane was immediately defensive.

Maura pulled back and took Jane's face in her hands. "Really, Jane? That's your response? Look at yourself!" And then she laughed. Just a little laugh, but it was enough to break the tension and suddenly Jane's demeanor changed and she laughed a little too.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. After I had to cut off my shirt I guess I should have realized that maybe I wasn't ready for independent showering." She smirked at Maura and wiped away the tears that lingered on her face. "So will you help me get out of here, or what?"

Jane groaned in pain as Maura helped her up, but felt better once she had traded her towel for a robe and was sitting back on the couch. Maura cleaned up in the bathroom and then came out with a comb and went to work on Jane's hair.

"Jane, you're still all sudsy. We're going to have to rinse this out. Come on, let's go." She helped Jane off the couch and led her to the kitchen, where she dragged a chair in front of the sink before disappearing into the bedroom. When she came back with a bottle of shampoo and some towels, Jane had already leaned her head back over the sink. Maura gently lifted Jane's head with one hand and slid a towel under her neck with the other, and then got right to work.

Maura ran her fingers through Jane's curls as she sprayed warm water over them. Both women were silent, but Jane's eyes never closed. She watched Maura intently, breathing steadily and deeply while Maura massaged in shampoo and then carefully rinsed it out, working through the tangles with long fingers.

"Okay, here we go." Maura helped Jane sit up, and then toweled her hair just enough to keep it from dripping before she combed through it.

"You have such beautiful hair, Jane."

"You think so? Tell my mother that—she hates that it's so wild."

"I love your hair wild." Maura ran her fingers through the dark brown curls again, tousling them gently. "It suits you."

"Now, let's see what else we need to do here." Maura pulled Jane to her feet and moved closer to her, putting her hands on her shoulders and gripping the collar of her bathrobe.

Jane looked into her eyes, and Maura saw many things there—confusion, fear, and maybe even arousal. But Jane was in no condition to run, so she decided it was safe to slide the robe off of the brunette's shoulders. Goosebumps appeared on Jane's arms and torso, but she made no move to cover herself and didn't protest at the fact that she was now standing bare-breasted in her kitchen. She just watched Maura's face and Maura's fingers as they brushed against her ribs and abdomen.

"Does it hurt when I touch it?" Maura fingered the angry red scar beneath Jane's left rib.

Jane shook her head, her breathing shallow.

"Good. We should put another bandage on it—I'm assuming you took the others off before your shower?"

Jane nodded, unable to speak. Maura's touch was so gentle and tender as she rebandaged the wound on her stomach and the matching one on her back, that she felt tears coming to her eyes again.

"I think we'd better just leave you in this robe for now, until we get you some button-up shirts that you can get on and off by yourself. Now, I think it's time for you to go to bed." She took Jane's hand and led her to the bedroom, where she pulled back the sheets on Jane's side of the bed.

Jane climbed in and turned onto her right side, but she kept Maura's right hand in her left, not wanting to break contact. Then, suddenly, she found her voice again. "Maura," she whispered, hoarsely but firmly, "please stay with me tonight. Please don't go." She didn't care if she sounded desperate—the thought of spending the night without Maura was just too awful to contemplate.

Maura moved closer to the bed, leaned down, and captured Jane's lips with what she hoped was enough force to convince Jane that she would, most definitely, stay.

"I never," Maura whispered as she broke the kiss, "intended—" she kissed Jane again, this time even more passionately, "to leave."

"Ever."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the comments! What a fabulous little community this is!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli and Isles, or any other titles or characters mentioned below._

Chapter 4

By the time Jane had been home from the hospital for three days, Maura began to feel as though she were starring in her own version of the movie _Kissing Jessica Stein_. She was playing the role of the just-realized-that-she-prefers-women character, trying to get the likes-being-in-a-relationship-with-a-woman-but-is-still-very-confused character to take things a step further.

Meaning, they were doing a lot of kissing, but not much else, and Maura wasn't sure if it was because Jane couldn't or wouldn't.

Not that kissing Jane Rizzoli wasn't fantastic. It was absolutely the best thing she had ever done in her life. Despite the fact that Jane's public persona was dominant and even aggressive at times, as a lover she was patient and gentle. In Maura's sexual experience, she had found that men quickly wanted to dominate her, and their attempts at foreplay were often overwhelming and clumsy. But Jane was soft, and her kisses were by turns sweet and playful, then passionate and deep.

And, while they were kissing, she talked. Maura couldn't get Jane to say a word about their relationship otherwise, but with their arms wrapped around each other in bed or on the couch, Jane opened up and practically gushed.

"Did you know that I love the way you taste, no matter what? First thing in the morning, after you've eaten pizza—it doesn't matter. How is that possible? I don't like the way my own mouth tastes in the morning. And don't get me started on your neck . . ."

"Do you remember that day you popped my nose back in place after Frankie hit me playing basketball? That was the first time I wanted to kiss you, when you touched my chin. I felt like a teenage girl who shook Justin Bieber's hand and then never wants to wash it again."

"Just so you know, you have the most perfect fingers anyone in the world has ever had. Seriously, if Rodin were still alive, he would sculpt them—and don't give me that look, I know who Rodin was!"

It was sweet, it was funny, it was so . . . not Jane. Maura loved the fact that she got to see a side of Jane that no one else seemed to know existed.

It was wonderful.

And it was frustrating. Not just the ache between her legs (and that was bad enough), but not knowing where the plot of this particular movie was going. Was Jane eventually going to back out of this relationship and go back to men, like the movie character? And if so, would they still be friends? She had a feeling it was going to be much more complicated than that.

The complications began later that week, after Maura had spent a particularly long day at work. She was looking forward to a quiet evening with Jane, watching the Red Sox while snuggled on the couch. She arrived at Jane's apartment to find her just getting out of the shower and glowing with happiness. Her pain was clearly decreasing, since she had managed to bathe and dress herself without resorting to drastic measures, and she had even put dinner on the table for the two of them.

But Maura took one look at Jane's pink skin and shining eyes, and her desire for food immediately left her. She just wanted Jane. So she slipped off her shoes and stretched out on the couch, knowing that Jane would be in her arms within seconds. She didn't bother to turn off the TV.

Jane's kisses were passionate, and Maura returned them hungrily. She pulled Jane in close so that they could both fit on the couch, and then deliberately slid her hand first up the back of Jane's shirt along her spine, and then down, down, until she found Jane's panties. And she didn't stop.

And Jane didn't pull away. She stopped breathing for half a second, then moaned and kissed Maura harder than she ever had. Then her own hand found its way down Maura's side, over her curves, until she rested it just beneath the hem of Maura's skirt, tracing circles on her thigh.

"Jane, I . . . I want you . . . please, Jane, more–" Maura could barely get the words out.

Then there was a knock on the door. Before either woman could react, it opened and Vince Korsak strode into the room, followed by Jane's partner, Barry Frost.

"Hey, I hear a baseball game . . ." Korsak froze as he realized what he had just walked in on.

Jane pulled away from Maura so fast she nearly fell off the couch. For a second she tried to play innocent. "Hey, guys, what are you doing here?" She ran her hands through her hair and then tugged at her shirt, making sure she was covered up.

"Sorry, Jane, the door was open and I could hear the baseball game . . . But clearly you're busy, I, uh, we didn't know Dr. Isles would be here." Both Korsak and Frost began backing up rapidly.

"Hey, it's okay, Korsak! I'm glad you're here, you can watch the game with us, right Maura?" Jane looked panicked, and her voice was much higher than usual.

"Jane." Maura smirked just slightly, and put her hand on Jane's knee. "It's okay, I think the detectives know what's going on and you're making them uncomfortable."

"I'm making _them_ uncomfortable?" Jane immediately dropped the act and pushed Maura's hand away roughly. She buried her face in her hands, feeling the blood pounding in her brain. In a low voice directed just at Maura she added, "Why the _fuck_," she paused, knowing full-well Maura hated it when she cursed, "didn't you lock the goddamn door!"

Maura's face went rigid, and she looked down at her lap.

Korsak tried to save the situation. "Jane, it's no big deal! This is none of our business. We just wanted to say hi, and see if you're okay, and you clearly are, and uh, now we'll go."

"Wait, guys, wait." Jane suddenly jumped off the couch, wincing slightly at the pain. She walked over to the detectives and began to plead with them. "Look, this was, just a mistake, okay? Please, don't tell anyone back in the office about this. We'll just pretend it didn't happen. In fact, if you guys ever bring it up again I'll deny it. You know I have a lot of dirt on you, Korsak, and Frost, you're just a rookie but—"

"Forget it, Rizzoli. We were never here." Korsak was already halfway out the door. Frost suddenly remembered the flowers he was holding, and he thrust them toward Jane, speaking for the first time since they entered the apartment.

"These are for you, Jane. Get better soon." He looked at Maura. "See you later, Dr. Isles." And then he was gone too.

Jane sat back down, but this time on the chair rather than the couch. She tossed the flowers on the coffee table in front of her.

"I am never going to live this down. Those idiots are going to tell everyone, I can guarantee you that. I will never hear the end of it."

"Jane, don't be overdramatic. Everyone's going to find out sometime, and they'll get used to the idea."

Jane gave Maura a piercing look. "What do you mean, everyone's going to find out sometime? Have you told anyone? Didn't I beg you not to tell anyone?"

"I haven't said a word, but I thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong. We are not telling anyone."

"Why, Jane? You have to explain this to me."

"No, I—" She stopped. "Yes, actually, I should explain. I've been rehearsing this speech for days and I might as well get it over with."

Maura felt like her heart had just dropped into her stomach. _This is going to be bad_, she thought.

"You see, I have always wanted to be a cop. Ever since I was a kid. And everyone told me that girls couldn't be cops, so of course that meant I had to prove them all wrong. And I did it—I'm the only female detective in Boston Homicide. And I'm a _good_ detective, Maura. I love my job. I could never give this job up, not for anything. That means I have to give everything to the job. I can't let down my guard for one little minute, or everyone in the precinct will see me for who I am and they won't trust me anymore. If that ever happens, I'll be behind a desk so fast . . . I can't just be a cop, I have to be the _best_."

Maura interrupted. "I still don't understand what this has to do with you and me. You can't be a good cop and be a lesbian? I happen to know that several of the women in other departments are gay . . ."

"Yeah. And they get made fun of all the time. They're _weak_, Maura. And I'm not weak. I can't be."

"So you're saying that loving me makes you weak?" Maura's voice was steady and even, although it was also quiet.

Jane looked at the floor. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

"Then why are all of the male cops allowed to have wives? Korsak's had three wives, does that make him weak?"

"No, it's different."

"That's not much of a response, Jane."

"Well, that's all you're going to get."

"I was there when you found out about Danny's death, remember? I was examining his body and you and Korsak talked about how he had a wife and kids. You had sympathy for him, I saw it in your eyes. You didn't think he was weak."

Maura stood up and began pacing around the room. "Please, Jane, explain to me how love makes you weak." Maura's voice betrayed her impatience, and Jane didn't respond well.

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Maura! Men are supposed to put their jobs before everything, and women are supposed to put their men before everything. That's just the way it is. And I can't do both."

"So we can't be together because if you ever have to make a choice between me and your job, you'll pick your job." Maura crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked directly at Jane.

Jane looked like she might cry, but she bit her lip and nodded.

"Yes."

"And that's what happened with Bobby, isn't it. You think you put your job before me, and it's eating you up inside."

"I don't just think that, I _did_ that."

"How? You were trying to save Frankie, I didn't have anything to do with it."

"No, you've got it all wrong, Maura. I knew what I was doing. I knew that we needed to get Frankie some help, and that made me desperate, sure. But that wasn't the only reason I did it." Jane stopped and took a deep breath.

"I did it because I didn't want to look weak. You were right, Maura, I wanted to be a hero."

"Jane, I'm sorry I ever said that, it isn't true, it just can't be true."

"It's even worse. Maura, I didn't even think about you when I did it. I didn't even think about how it might affect you. That day, before we left for work, I thought that I loved you more than anything in the world. I thought I would do anything for you. But I was wrong. I put a bullet in my belly without a thought for the person I loved."

Jane took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at the woman standing in front of her. Maura's expression was hard and tense.

"I will always put my job—myself—before the people I love. I'm a cop. That's what cops do."

Maura was immediately furious. "Don't give me that line, Jane. It's ridiculous. You know it and I know it. You're too smart to believe that."

"Don't tell me what I believe or don't believe! I do believe it, I know it! Aren't you the one who's supposed to be all logical and rational? This is the rational thing to do—the logical thing to do!"

"What? What is the logical thing to do?" Maura flopped back down on the couch, flinging her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Break up! Not be together!" Jane's voice was raw with emotion. "I can't be with you because of who I am, and you're just going to have to accept that."

"Well, then what have we been doing all this time? This last week? Before that? Have you just been leading me on? Playing with my emotions so that I would take care of you?"

"I haven't been leading you on, I didn't let things go too far—"

"Go too far? Jane, this is the most intense physical and emotional relationship that I have ever had in my life. And I know it was the same for you. I know it."

Maura's voice caught in her throat, but she didn't break down. She was too angry. Her voice got low and quiet again.

"You said you'd been planning this little speech for days."

Jane nodded.

"You knew you were going to do this."

Jane looked like she might protest, but thought better of it and just nodded again.

"You don't want to be with me because everything you've had to do to become a cop has fucked you up so badly that you can't love me enough."

"Not just you, anyone. I can't love anyone enough."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Jane groaned, and leaned her head back against the chair. "No, I guess not."

The two women sat in silence for several long moments. Jane picked at a loose thread on her sweat pants, feeling Maura's eyes watching her.

"You know I have to leave then, right?"

Jane nodded, and when she looked up there were tears in her eyes.

Maura reached down and slid her feet into her shoes. Then in one fluid motion she stood up and turned away from Jane towards the hallway. Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she walked back to the bedroom. She came out in a few minutes with a gym bag and a couple of dresses on hangers.

"I'll come back for the rest of my things later." Then she slid a key out of her key ring and dropped it with a clink in the bowl by the front door.

"Maura, if it makes you feel any better, I hate myself for this."

"Jane, if it makes you feel any better, I hate you for this too."

She slammed the door behind her.

**A/N: Don't hate me for leaving it here—I did warn you that angst was one of the main themes . . .**


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli and Isles_.

A/N: Thanks again for staying with me on this!

Chapter 5

Maura gripped the steering wheel of her car and tried to decide what to do next. If she went home she knew she would crawl into bed and the anger she felt would dissipate, leaving only the pain of knowing that Jane had rejected her. Then all she would be able to do was cry herself to sleep and hope that somehow morning would never come.

Maura wasn't ready to let go of her anger and face the inevitable pain and loneliness. So there was only one thing to do, really. Get drunk.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting in a booth at the Dirty Robber sucking on a beer. The beer that Jane had introduced her to. Somehow it seemed fitting.

She was signaling for the waitress to bring her another when she saw Korsak walk into the bar. He noticed her right away and sat down across from her when he saw that she was alone.

"I guess she's pretty mad, huh?"

"Yes, she is pretty mad." Maura drained the last few drops out of her second bottle of beer before picking up the third.

"Geez, I'm sorry, Maura. I had no idea. Apparently genius boy Frost said he thought there was something going on between you two, but he didn't think it was important enough to tell me that before I went barging into her apartment."

"It isn't your fault, Korsak, this would have happened eventually anyway. You may have actually done me a favor—now I know what I'm up against."

Korsak studied Maura's face for a minute. "Oh, I see. She's using this as an excuse to push you away, isn't she."

Maura looked surprised, and then relieved. "Yes, that's exactly what she's doing."

"Well, you can tell her that me and Frost won't say anything. I may be old, but I can keep my mouth shut. She's right, anyway, she does have plenty of dirt on me." Korsak chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the situation a bit.

"Korsak, she thinks that if everyone in the department knew . . . about us, about our relationship . . . that they wouldn't trust her to be a good cop anymore. That she would somehow be a detriment to the unit rather than an asset and she'd end up stuck behind a desk."

"Well, that makes sense."

"What? That doesn't make any sense at all to me. Do you really think that people would stop trusting her just because she was in a relationship with a woman?"

Korsak shrugged. "It's like anything else, some would care and some wouldn't. But I doubt she'd end up behind a desk. She's a damn good cop, no matter who she decides to sleep with." Korsak realized how bad that sounded as soon as he said it, but to his surprise Maura didn't look insulted, just curious.

"So you don't think Jane's overreacting?"

"Oh, she's definitely overreacting. Our bosses are okay guys, they probably wouldn't say anything. Jane can hold her own with anyone in the department anyway—even that jackass Crowe. Plus, she's got dirt on more guys than just me."

Maura still looked confused, so Korsak continued. "What I meant was, it makes sense that she would react that way because that's just the way she is. She did the same thing to me that she's doing to you now. That's why we aren't partners anymore."

"She's never really explained that to me. Why aren't you partners anymore?"

"She told me it was because I had seen her with Hoyt. Seen her lying there, broken, with the scalpels in her hands. That's what she said: broken. I told her I didn't care and that I didn't think of her any differently, but she thinks that I can't trust her. So now you've seen her in a similar situation, with Bobby and everything, so she's going to push you away too."

"She said it was more than that, though. She said that she loves her job more than she loves me. That she would always put her job first, before anyone she loved."

"Huh." Korsak signaled for more beer and fidgeted with a cocktail napkin.

"Korsak, what?" Maura looked at him searchingly. "Do you know something else? Something you don't want to tell me? I know how to read facial expressions very well, you know."

"What the hell do I know about women? Three divorces, remember? Don't ask me to try to figure you guys out."

Maura pressed on, insisting that Korsak give her a real answer. "You might not know women, but you know Jane, right? You were her partner for years, you probably know her better than anyone."

Korsak looked extremely uncomfortable. "Geez, doc, you aren't going to like what I have to say."

"Well, say it anyway. I haven't liked just about anything I've heard this whole night, I might as well get it over with." Maura raised her voice, feeling the anger rising in her chest again.

The change in tone was enough to get Korsak to spill his guts. "My ex-wives divorced me for that exact reason. Well, the first two anyway. They said that I always put the job before them. Hell, the whole precinct is full of divorced guys whose wives got sick of having cops for husbands. We make bad husbands, Maura. It's the way we are."

Maura was stunned. Stunned and angry.

"I am so sick of everyone using that as an excuse! People can change, you know. Human beings are more than just instincts and stereotypes!"

"Hey, Maura, you're the one who's always talking about people being genetically wired for crime, and shit like that. Jane is a cop, that's who she is."

Maura opened her mouth to respond, but then immediately closed it again when a sudden realization hit her.

"Korsak, I've got to talk to Jane. I've had three and a half of these beers—do you think I can drive?" She picked up her purse and began sliding out of the booth.

"I think I'd better call you a cab." He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. "And you'd better finish the last one, if you really plan on going back over there."

* * *

Maura didn't bother knocking on the door, she just barged right in. Jane was still on the couch, watching the baseball game. It was obvious she had been crying.

"Jane. I have more to say." Maura closed the door, deliberately turned and locked it, and then moved to the center of the room and switched off the TV.

"What? Maura, please, I already know you hate me—"

"I don't hate you. I was angry and I shouldn't have said that."

"You still seem pretty angry." Jane sat up and rubbed her face. "And maybe a little bit drunk?"

"Dammit Jane, you are going to listen to what I have to say! You owe me that."

Jane looked guilty. "Fine, I'm listening." She avoided Maura's gaze though, and subconsciously rubbed her hands.

Maura waited until she had calmed down a bit before continuing. "Do you remember when I found out who my father was, and I started worrying that because of the genes I had inherited I would somehow turn out like him? And do you remember what you told me?"

"Of course, I told you that you don't have an evil bone in your body. And you don't."

"But didn't I just tell you that I hated you, barely an hour ago? Didn't I stand beside your hospital bed and practically shout at you, when a machine was breathing for you and when the doctors didn't even know if you'd make it through the night? I wanted to_ hurt_ you, Jane. When I walked out of here and slammed the door, I was so angry I wanted to cause you physical pain."

"Maura, that doesn't mean anything, it was the heat of the moment—"

"Exactly, Jane! That is exactly my point! Most of the time, I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. Just these little flashes of anger and pain, and I can snap. But 99 percent of the time—maybe even 99.5 percent of the time—I choose my behavior."

Jane looked utterly confused, but Maura kept talking. "The point is, we make a thousand decisions a day, and genetics really only determines a small number of those choices. My father and I might share the same genes that make us snap at certain things, but he chooses to kill people and I don't. He doesn't do it in the heat of the moment, he does it deliberately. I, on the other hand, choose to do good things deliberately. At least I think I do."

"Of course you do, Maura, but what does that have to do with—"

Maura held up her hand and gave Jane a look that told her she wasn't finished yet. "In the heat of the moment—your words, not mine!—you snapped. You made a bad decision. Maybe not even a bad decision, since a great deal of good did come out of it. But a decision that you are now uncomfortable with. But think about all of the times when you deliberately, purposely, made decisions that you are proud of! All of the times you have caught bad guys and helped people who couldn't help themselves. All of the times that you put the needs of your family above your own."

Maura was rushing through her words now, and Jane sat in stunned silence, watching the wheels in Maura's head spin.

"You _chose_ to let yourself love me, Jane. I know you did. I've looked into your eyes so many times and seen nothing but love. A kind of love that I've never known before. That is a good thing. A very good thing. Don't let one poor decision ruin all of the good things."

"But that one decision did almost ruin all of the good things!"

"_Almost_, Jane. 'Almost' is the operative word here. Jane, if you could just let this go—"

Jane groaned and put her face in her hands. "I can't let it go, Maura. That's what I've been trying to tell you. It's who I am."

"You can _choose_ to be who you are, Jane! You can choose to let it go. That's what _I'm_ trying to tell _you_."

Jane didn't say anything in response, and Maura wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, but she decided to finish what she had to say.

"Do you remember when my father—the sperm donor—kidnapped me? The first thing I asked him about was my mother. My birth mother. I wanted to know who she was. He wouldn't tell me. He said he had to protect her privacy, but that she had never forgiven him."

"For giving you up?"

"That's exactly what I thought. But he said no. He said 'She never forgave me for who I am.' I've been thinking about that a lot lately, for obvious reasons. I don't know for certain, but I wonder if she hoped that he would change—for her. And when he couldn't, or wouldn't, she couldn't forgive him for it."

Maura paced around the living room, gesturing with her hands as she tried to get her point across. "So you've got two people who love each other, but who won't compromise, won't meet in the middle. We're doing the same thing. And I don't want to just give up and walk away and then still feel bitter about it in twenty years."

"Jane, I know that you accept a lot of the odd, or difficult things about who I am. You let me do my job the way I want to do it, the way I have to do it. I know I'm slow and overly meticulous, but you are patient with me. You don't make fun of me when I start spouting off facts that seem random or unimportant because you know they are significant to me. But there are lots of things that I've changed about myself because of you. Little things, like drinking beer, but big things too. I've learned to adjust my schedule, my routines, to accommodate you. Everything in my life has been turned upside down since I met you, Jane. Things I never thought I could do, from spending 48 hours wearing the same wrinkled dress to putting a tube in a man's chest because the woman I loved asked me to—I did them all."

Jane looked slightly indignant. "Well, I've changed a lot too, you know, Maura. I go to yoga with you. I ran a marathon with you, and I hate running! Maura, I wear _dresses_ for you!"

"I know, Jane, don't you see? You have changed, I have changed. People can change! As long as we are both trying, just a little bit at a time, we can make this work! I'm not asking you to become an entirely different person overnight. I know you have a certain image of what a cop should be like, and I know you've spent your entire adult life trying to live up to that image. You've watched other cops' relationships and marriages fall apart, so you think that's just the way it is, and that's just the way it will have to be for you."

"All I want you to do is try to change the image you have of yourself in your head. Change who you _want_ to be. Don't use the "I'm a cop" routine as an excuse. You can be a different type of cop."

"I love you, Jane. I love you even though you shot yourself and I almost lost you. I love you even though you are terrified of what other people will think about us. Can you please just try and meet me in the middle, and admit that maybe you can change? That you need to change?"

Jane stood up, took two steps toward Maura and then grasped her shoulders. Maura was trembling but as Jane looked into her eyes she felt herself calming down, and her breathing steadied.

Until Jane leaned forward and kissed her. Then she gasped as she felt the intensity in the kiss, as she felt Jane answer her in the way she knew best. Maura put her arms around Jane's neck and held her close, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the heat in her body rising and spreading to every nerve, every blood vessel.

Finally, Jane broke the kiss and pulled Maura onto the couch, curling up next to her, resting her head on the curve of her shoulder and speaking softly but insistently into her neck.

"Thank you for coming back, Maura. You're totally right, I love you so much, I don't know what I would do without you. You've turned my life upside down too, you know, and it's terrifying but I love you so much I don't care, I just don't want you to leave me again—"

Maura had melted into Jane and was relishing the feeling of letting go of her anger and all of the tension of the evening, letting her love for Jane fill her up and erase the emptiness, the loneliness. But Jane's last words, before she began trailing warm and exquisite kisses down her neck, brought her back to reality again.

She remembered the look on Jane's face in the hospital room, when she had practically pleaded with her to take her home. She remembered Jane grasping her hand and asking her to stay the night, not to leave her alone. She remembered when Jane had made those gestures and said those words, she had also been hiding the fact that she never believed it would last. Maura still didn't know if Jane would really make an effort to change, or if she just didn't want to be alone.

It took every ounce of self control that she had, but she pushed Jane away.

"No, Jane. We can't do this just because you don't want me to leave. I need to know that you are going to try. You need to prove it to me."

Jane looked so shattered, Maura had to look away or risk giving in again. She stood up and put some distance between them.

"But . . . how? How do I prove it to you?" Jane's voice shook with emotion.

"I can't tell you that, Jane. I don't know if I know. But you have to figure it out. Soon, I hope."

So for the second time that night, Maura walked out of Jane's apartment, not knowing when she would be back.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles_

Chapter 6

Jane didn't sleep well at all that night. Her mind kept replaying the conversations that she'd had with Maura, trying to figure out what to do next. She kept imagining the kinds of grand gestures of love and commitment that people make in movies—skywriting, proposals on the jumbotron at sporting events, fireworks, romantic vacations with engagement rings hidden in champagne flutes.

None of that made any sense at all. Not for Jane, not for Maura.

Did Maura want her to storm into the homicide department and make an official announcement that they were dating? Stand on the steps of the police department and make out? Concoct an elaborate scheme in which she could put Maura in some sort of fake danger and then rescue her, just to prove that she would do anything for her?

Every idea she had seemed more ridiculous than the last. So ridiculous, in fact, that she actually laughed out loud when she imagined buying rainbow-striped 'We're here, we're queer, get used to it!' t-shirts to wear in the next marathon they ran together.

At that point, Jane got up out of bed and went to the window to watch the sunrise. Her apartment didn't have much of a view, but her bedroom did have an eastern exposure and this wasn't the first time she'd found herself waiting for the sun to peek through the Boston skyline after spending all night puzzling through a case.

Despite her lack of sleep, Jane had a brief moment of clarity as she watched the sky brighten. She knew that she loved Maura, and that she didn't want to lose her. She knew that Maura loved her, and didn't want to lose her, either. Maura didn't want a grand gesture or a proposal; she just wanted to know that Jane loved her and would stand by her.

And there was only one way to prove that: by making all of the little decisions, every day, that showed Maura what she felt.

_This is going to take a lot of time,_ thought Jane. And then, because she was a police detective, she mumbled to herself, _and a lot of documentation_.

Then she went back to bed, and, finally, slept.

As soon as she woke up several hours later, she sent Maura a text message.

"Hey, I just wanted you to know that even if we can't be together right now I am still thinking about you, and I love you."

Then she waited for Maura to answer, her heart beating rapidly. Luckily, the reply came quickly.

"Thanks, Jane, I love you too. Do you need anything today?"

Jane thought of about six things that she needed from Maura, but all of them involved rather intimate uses of her tongue, so she decided against mentioning them.

"Nope, I'm good. Want to come over tomorrow night and watch the game with me?"

Jane hit the send key and rubbed her sweaty palms on her pajamas. What if Maura said no?

"Sure, I'll be there around seven-thirty."

Jane felt relief wash over her when she read Maura's reply, and then wondered when she had become a giddy schoolgirl.

After sending two more texts, to Frost and Korsak, Jane got out of bed and rummaged through her desk drawers until she found a yellow legal pad. On the top of the first page she wrote:

1. Sent you a text telling you that I loved you and invited you over to watch the game.

_One down, ninety nine to go. _

* * *

Frost and Korsak rang the doorbell at 7:20, and Jane noticed how relieved they looked when she answered, fully clothed and with a smile on her face. She let them in and decided to get the apology out of the way as quickly as possible.

"Hey, guys, I'm glad you could come over. I'm really sorry about what happened the other night—I, uh, didn't react well, and it won't happen again."

"No problem, Rizzoli, it's no big deal," said Korsak, and then he looked around the room. "Is Maura here?"

"She'll be here in a few minutes. I've got beers in the fridge if you guys want them, and pizza's on the way . . ."

Korsak elbowed Frost, who suddenly blurted out, "So, are you and Maura, um, a couple now? Or dating, or . . . something?"

Jane grinned at her partner. "Did Korsak make you ask that? He always was good at getting the rookies to do the dirty work." Then she sighed and continued. "I'm not exactly sure what we're doing at the moment . . . I sort of have to make up for the other night, and some other stuff . . . but I think things will work out."

Now it was Frost's turn to tease his partner. "She's got you whipped already, huh Jane?"

Jane laughed. "I guess she does. Just a little bit, though," she added, pinching her thumb and forefinger together, "so don't go making a big deal out of it."

Korsak patted Jane on the arm, said, "Good work, Rizzoli," and settled onto the couch. The pizza arrived then, and soon the three were inhaling slices and chatting about the game.

When the doorbell rang again, Jane felt her stomach contract. She stood up, wiping her hands on a napkin.

"Here we go, boys, wish me luck!" she said under her breath.

Maura looked surprised to see Frost and Korsak sitting in the living room when Jane opened the door for her, but she recovered quickly and greeted them politely. She declined Jane's offer of beer, but took a diet coke and a slice of pizza and sat down on the couch. Jane settled in next to her.

It only took Jane until the middle of the third inning to reach out and take Maura's hand. She laced their fingers together lightly and rested her hand on Maura's thigh. She was half expecting Maura to pull away, and she prepared herself for an awkward moment. Instead, Maura turned her head and looked into Jane's eyes, giving her a searching look. A slow smile spread across Jane's face, just enough to show her dimples, and her eyes sparkled. Jane watched as Maura blushed and then looked away, but the intimacy of the moment was not lost on either woman. Maura gripped her hand tighter, and didn't let go until the seventh inning stretch.

Later that night, after everyone had left, Jane got out her yellow legal pad again.

8. Apologized to Frost and Korsak for making a scene the other night.

9. Told Frost and Korsak that we are dating. Didn't chicken out.

10. Frost told me that I was whipped and I realized that I didn't mind.

11. Made sure to have your favorite pizza for the baseball game.

12. Held your hand in front of Frost and Korsak.

13. Didn't kiss you good night (even though I really wanted to) because I wasn't sure how you would feel about it.

Lots of things after that were easy. Number 29, sending flowers for no reason, had been so easy she had been tempted to do it twice. For number 53, she read an article that Maura had published in a forensic science journal several years earlier, and then surprised her by bringing it up in conversation. That hadn't been too difficult either.

But other things were harder.

Jane had been back to work for nearly a month before she made it up to number 85:

Told the family that I'm dating Maura.

That was a hard one, and since there were three family members to tell, she counted it as 86 and 87 too. Surprisingly, it was Frankie who seemed the most disconcerted by Jane's announcement. Her parents seemed to have already guessed, and Angela was only slightly offended that Jane hadn't told her earlier, but Frankie said very little during family dinner and avoided eye contact with everyone at the table. When he left immediately after dessert, Jane almost went after him, but her father stopped her.

"Give him time, Janie. He'll come around. Just be patient."

"Patient? Pop, do you know who you're talking to?"

"Yeah, I do. Patience isn't your strong point. Deal with it."

An hour later, Jane drove to Frankie's apartment and almost went inside. But she stopped herself, and soon found herself ringing Maura's doorbell.

"Hey, Jane, is everything okay?" Maura noticed immediately that Jane looked worried and invited her in. Jane stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

"I told my family. That we're, you know, dating."

"Jane! You did it by yourself? I would have come with you . . . I didn't mean for you to have to do this alone—" Maura took Jane's hands in hers and gripped them tightly.

"No, it's okay, I had to do it myself. If you were with me I wouldn't have gotten an honest reaction."

"And? What was their reaction?" Maura spoke quietly, afraid of Jane's answer.

"Mom and pop were totally fine, but Frankie . . . I think he's a little freaked out. He left early, and I didn't really get a chance to talk to him. Pop says I should give him space . . . Maura, I think he'll be okay, but I . . . I just wanted to see you tonight."

"Of course, Jane." Maura let go of Jane's hands so that she could wrap her arms around her and hold her close. She nestled her head into Jane's neck, and Jane pressed her lips against her forehead, breathing deeply.

"I miss this, Maura. Just touching you . . ."

Maura pulled away and looked into Jane's eyes. Then she took her girlfriend's hand and began to lead her into the living room.

Jane took a couple of steps and then stopped. "No, not yet . . . not yet."

"Jane, you told your family—that's enough. This last month of just . . . figuring things out . . . I know it's been hard on you—"

Jane stopped Maura with a kiss. Their first kiss in over a month. Every worry, every fear, everything about the outside world just disappeared and all that was left was the reality of Maura's lips, and the little noises she made as Jane finally began putting her tongue to good use . . ."

Jane pulled away again, feeling weak in the knees. "It has been hard, Maura, but good. And I want to do this right, I want to finish—"

"Finish what?"

Jane smiled. "You'll see. Next Friday, a week from tonight, eight-thirty, at the Dirty Robber, okay?"

Jane was nervous again, and not just because Maura was late. She took tiny sips out of her beer—she was only allowing herself one—and yanked on the hem of her dress. The yellow legal pad was on the table, and she flipped through a few pages before writing,

99. Wore a dress—and heels—to the Dirty Robber.

When she finished, she looked up to find Maura watching her.

"Jane, what's this?"

"Sit down, I'll show you."

Maura slid into the booth facing Jane across the table and reached for the notepad, but Jane snatched it away.

"No, sit over here." She scooted close to the wall and patted the seat beside her. Maura blushed and moved over.

"Now, apologize for keeping your date waiting."

Maura did look truly sorry. "One of my team came in with a question about something and I couldn't get rid of him—sorry, Jane."

Jane giggled. "That's quite all right, Dr. Isles. Here you go." She pushed the legal pad in front of Maura. "This is a little something I've been working on, for oh, about five weeks and three days, and," she made a grand gesture of checking her watch, "ten hours. Or so."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Not at all. Go ahead, read."

Maura read all ninety-nine items without looking up. Her expression was one of intense concentration, despite the fact that they were in a noisy bar on a Friday night.

Jane sipped more beer in an attempt to drown the butterflies in her stomach.

"Why are there only ninety-nine things on the list?"

"What? Is that all you have to say?" Jane was indignant.

"Well, ninety-nine is a strange place to stop, don't you think? I have to assume that you meant for there to be an even one hundred things on this list."

"I was saving that one, for your information." Jane grabbed the notepad again, and scribbled in,

100. I let you kiss me in the middle of the Dirty Robber on a Friday night while I was wearing a dress—and heels—in front of half the Boston Police Department.

Maura didn't disappoint. She smiled and leaned in close. The look she had in her eye was challenging, confident, and sexy as hell.

Then she leaned back again. "Are you sure about this?" she teased.

"Absolutely," growled Jane, in a voice so low Maura felt it vibrate.

The kiss was electric, but short, cut off by a shrill whistle. The two women looked up to find one of their colleagues, detective Crowe, staring at them.

"What's this, Rizzoli? Playing for both teams these days?"

Jane felt herself color, and she pulled away from Maura quickly. A little too quickly. Maura took one look at the panic in her girlfriend's face, and took control of the situation. She slid out of the booth, taking Jane's hand and pulling her out after her. In her heels, she stood just about even with Crowe, and she moved close to him, looking him right in the eye.

"Jealous?" She tilted her head to the side, smiled and blinked, but continued to stare at the astonished detective. After an interminable second, he put up his hands in surrender and took a step back.

"Hey, I was just . . ."

"Being a jackass?" Jane finished his sentence for him, smacked him—hard—on the arm, and together the two women left the bar, hand in hand.

Jane stopped in the parking lot. "Maura, that was—"

"Awesome? Exhilarating?"

"Yes, but . . . I pulled away from you, Maura. Another split-second decision and I failed again."

"Oh, Jane, but I was there to pull you back. I'll always be there to pull you back. Now come on, I have a lot of things that I would like to add to that list of yours . . ."

**The End**


End file.
